Midnight at the Airport
by Ryeloza
Summary: He traveled so much that the airport was practically part of their marriage.  Several moments in Tom and Lynette's relationship that happened at the airport.
1. December 20, 1998

**Disclaimer: **_Desperate Housewives_ is in no way mine.

**Story Summary: **He traveled so much that the airport was practically part of their marriage. Several moments in Tom and Lynette's relationship that happened at the airport. Not in any particular order.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_December 20, 1998 – 12:09am_

Tom yawned widely and rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes as he made his way down the terminal toward baggage claim. He'd managed to snooze a little on the plane, but he was never completely able to relax while flying, especially on nights that he was so anxious to get home. Thanks to a snowstorm, he was already a day late and he wanted nothing more than to see his kids and kiss his wife before he crawled into bed and passed out.

As he rounded a corner and baggage claim came into sight, Tom actually stopped short. Standing maybe fifty feet away from him was his wife, scanning the crowd on tiptoe. For a minute, Tom simply stood and watched her, wondering what on earth had possessed her to drive all the way to the airport at midnight to pick him up when he could have just taken a taxi. Mostly, though, he was just happy to see her—the most welcome sight in the world for his tired eyes.

"Hey!" he called, walking toward her. She caught sight of him and gave a little wave, but she didn't make a move toward him, instead waiting until he reached her. "What are you doing here?" he asked cheerfully. "Where are the kids?" Tom leaned in to kiss her forehead, running his hands up and down her arms, but Lynette didn't return any outward sign of affection. He pulled back, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Your parents decided to come for Christmas after all. They showed up this morning."

"Oh," said Tom, trying to puzzle out what the problem was. Lynette could be peeved about that—she probably had every right to be—but he didn't think it warranted her coming all the way here to tell him. Not quite sure how to respond, he fell back on tried and true habits. "Well the guest room is tiny. They probably won't stay long."

Lynette didn't respond. Feeling antsy, Tom adjusted his bag on his shoulder, put his other arm around his wife's shoulders and started to lead her toward the baggage claim. Time for the direct approach. "Are they arguing?"

"What? No. Tom, this isn't about your parents."

"Well then what's going on? Because I'm getting the very clear impression that you aren't here just to surprise me."

"Oh, trust me. It's definitely a surprise."

Tom released his grip on her as they stepped into the crowd around the conveyor belt and gave her a slightly laughing look. If something was really wrong, she would have told him by now; as it was, this seemed like one of those situations where Lynette was about to blurt out something truly bizarre. "Are you going to make me guess?" he teased. Through the crowd he spotted his bag and he made a mad dash through the group to slither toward it. At the same moment, Lynette finally blurted out, "I'm pregnant!"

Along with a good number of the people there, Tom turned around to stare at his wife. She still had her arms crossed and her eyes wore a look ambivalent with annoyance, anger and excitement. Tom, feeling completely shell-shocked, just gaped at her. "How?" he asked stupidly.

"Gee, I don't know, Tom. How do you think?"

A couple of the people watching their little scene snickered loudly, but Tom was too busy trying to remember if he'd forgotten to wear a condom sometime in the recent past to care. Usually Lynette was pretty diligent about suiting him up, so to speak, but she'd been awfully tired lately. Maybe they'd slipped up. "Okay," he said, trying to shake off the shock and concentrate on the actual news. "We're going to have another baby." He smiled and walked back to her, giving her a quick kiss. "That's great!"

"Great? Well, yeah, that's one word. Not the word I would choose, but what do I know?" Lynette ran a hand through her hair and blew out a loud sigh. "The twins aren't even a year old yet."

"They will be before the baby is born."

"And then we'll have three kids under the age of two. How am I going to handle that? I'm already on my last nerve."

"Lynette…" Tom tried to pull her into a hug, but she backed away, flopping down into one of the chairs around the perimeter. He let out a little sigh as he knelt down in front of her and put his hands on her knees. Before he could say anything, an older, grandmotherly-looking woman came over and sat down next to Lynette, leaning into her personal space and patting her shoulder. Both Tom and Lynette looked at her rather incredulously.

"Sweetie, you're going to be fine," said the woman. "Trust me. I had six kids in eight years and I survived."

"Six…kids," said Lynette. She laughed in that high-pitched, shaky way that Tom knew to be a warning. He anxiously glanced at the woman, willing her to go away. "Six kids. Did you hear that, Tom?"

"I know it seems daunting now, but children are God's will. You're just doing your Christian duty. It's so refreshing to see young people like you who understand the evils of birth control."

Tom winced as Lynette's eyes flashed, but he was nowhere near foolish enough to stop her inevitable rant. Better her anger be directed at a perfect stranger than at him. "Look lady," she spat. "I can only imagine that having six kids muddled your mind until there was nothing left but mush, but there is no way in hell that I'm letting my husband turn me into a baby factory. In fact, after this kid is born I'm back on the pill ASAP. No dicking around this time. And there will be condoms everywhere. Enough to build a freakin' condom castle! Do you get my drift?"

The woman sputtered rather incomprehensibly for a moment, looking at Tom as though he was going to be idiotic enough to jump in on her behalf. Finally, she stood and shuffled away. Slightly amused in spite of himself, Tom didn't fight a smile as he shook his head. "Well, you showed her."

Lynette glared at him. "If you even think about having six kids I will make sure you're physically incapable of getting me pregnant again, you Catholic bastard."

Tom laughed loudly, rubbing her thighs for a moment before standing up. "Cheer up, gorgeous," he said. "A year ago you couldn't imagine having the twins either and now you wouldn't trade them for anything. It's going to be the same way with this baby. You'll see." He gave her ponytail a playful tug and she finally gave him a small smile.

"August twenty-third," she sighed. "That sounds like a good day for a baby, right?"

"Perfect."

Lynette stood up and put her hands on his shoulders, using them for balance as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "I am happy about this," she said quietly. "Somewhere deep down. It's just kind of being swallowed by the fear right now."

"I think that's okay." He smiled and pecked her lips again, then briefly nuzzled her cheek with his nose. "So my parents are with the twins, huh?"

"Yep."

He leaned in to kiss her earlobe, knowing that the sensation was a particular weakness of hers. "And there's a hotel about five minutes from here."

"Uh-huh."

"So maybe instead of going home we should celebrate a little."

"At the hotel."

"Exactly."

Lynette grinned and ran a finger down the bridge of his nose to the tip. "Propositions like that are how babies are made."

"Oh," said Tom theatrically, rolling his eyes. "So that's how this happened."

Lynette slapped his arm and stepped away. "Get your bag," she ordered, "before I have a mood swing and change my mind."


	2. May 11, 1997

**Disclaimer: **Oh, this still isn't mine.

**A/n: **Thank you all so much for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter just as much.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_May 11, 1997 – 3:34pm_

Lynette sat with her legs folded underneath her, one elbow on her knee and her hand supporting her chin as she distractedly flipped through a _People_ magazine she'd found abandoned when she'd arrived over two hours ago. The day had begun with the honest intention to do something nice: pick up her husband so he wouldn't have to deal with the hassle of taking a taxi home; but now it was rapidly declining into irritation. There was no better way to ruin an already terrible week than spending hours of her Sunday in an airport terminal; she couldn't count the number of time she'd already cursed delayed flights since she'd gotten there.

With a sigh, Lynette shut the magazine, tapping her fingers against it as she haphazardly glanced around the terminal. There weren't many other people waiting, but the ones who were there looked more ready to fall asleep than to burst from pent up energy. Of course, unlike her, they probably didn't have a hundred and one things that needed to get done before Wednesday.

An older man with bushy eyebrows and green suspenders slowly lumbered toward her, eventually collapsing into a chair a few down from hers and rubbing his hands over his knees. Once he was settled, he turned to look around and Lynette made the unfortunate mistake of not reopening her magazine before his gaze fixed on her. "Flight land yet?" he asked with a voice rusted from years of smoking.

Lynette shook her head, wondering what it was about waiting that made perfect strangers feel comfortable blathering on to any random person they met. "No," she said, but then amended, "Actually, I'm not sure."

"I'm waiting for my daughter," he said, taking the time to slide a seat closer to her. "You got any kids?"

"No." The man nodded without saying anything and Lynette realized her was waiting for her to elaborate. It would be rude not to—although she didn't particularly care if this person found her rude or not—but more importantly, at least this was more distracting than reading about what made Lucy Lawless one of the fifty most beautiful people in the world. "I'm waiting for my husband," she said. "He had to fly to Kentucky for his great-uncle's second wife's funeral."

There was a flash of a semi-toothless grin from the man. "That sounds like an obligation if I've ever heard one. How'd you get out of it?"

"Work. But I probably would have had a better time at the funeral."

Her companion gave a wheezy laugh that sounded like it was on its last legs. "My daughter's out of town on business. I'm picking her up 'cause her boyfriend's car got repossessed."

"Oh, well—"

"He's a loser. She could do a lot better."

Lynette fought a smile. "How old is she?"

"Twenty-three."

"Ah, well she's young. I'm sure she'll move on."

"Young and stubborn. You go through a bad boy stage?"

"Not really," said Lynette, genuinely amused. The closest she'd come to a "bad boy" was her high school boyfriend, who drove a motorcycle and once convinced her to shoplift. Not that there hadn't been guys through the years who had been completely wrong for her. She smiled amicably, leaning forward to quietly confide, "Although there was a period of struggling artists."

"In other words, maybe I shouldn't complain." He winked, but amazingly the gesture wasn't repulsive. "But you ended up choosing right, right?"

"I chose the best. So I'm sorry to say that the most your daughter can aspire to is second best."

The old man grinned. "Newlyweds, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to anyone who recognizes that lovey-dovey look on your face."

Despite herself, Lynette smiled even more broadly at the comment, turning her head away slightly so it wouldn't be so obvious. She and Tom had just passed their two month anniversary, an occasion they'd only been able to mark with a phone call, and one she was looking forward to celebrating more elaborately as soon as they got home. "Are you married?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Divorced. But don't let that get you down. You always hear about the bad stories, but not the good ones, you know? And there are plenty of good ones." Running a hand through his thinning hair, he gave her a weak smile. "The little things add up, good or bad. Things like pickin' him up at the airport. That's nice now, but it'll mean even more in ten years."

Lynette nodded, but she couldn't help thinking that ten years was an eternity away. By then she'd be in her forties; her career would be in full bloom; she and Tom might even have a kid—the list of possibilities was a mile long and purely hopeful, but nowhere on there was the thought of whether or not she'd still drive all the way to the airport to pick up her husband. It seemed rather inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

From further down the terminal there was a sudden flourish of noise and Lynette stood to get a better look. There was a crowd of people with various sorts of bags, but it took a few minutes for her to catch sight of Tom. He looked tired and as annoyed as she had been just fifteen minutes ago, but Lynette had something black and lacy on underneath her clothes that she thought would cheer him up pretty quickly. Without regard for her companion, she excitedly took off down the terminal, weaving through the weary group that trooped toward baggage claim until she met her husband. At the sight of her, he dropped his carry-on bag on the ground and opened his arms to welcome her eager hug.

"Hi, hi, hi!" she said, peppering his neck with kisses and taking a moment to breath him in. The loneliness of their first nights apart since they'd been married suddenly seemed to have caught up with her, and she couldn't hold him tightly enough to salve it.

Tom squeezed her in a firm hug, lifting her off the ground for a second and pressing his lips against her cheek. "Hi!" he said as he set her down again. Lynette pulled back and smiled up at him.

"Long day?"

"Long week."

"Yeah. Mine too."

Tom ran a gentle hand over her cheek and then kissed her properly, though probably not entirely appropriately for the crowded airport. Then he pulled back and bent to pick up his bag. "I have to say, traveling alone is definitely overrated."

Lynette smirked. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's a lot more pleasant when you use me as a pillow than say a little old lady who drools."

"Well you're very comfortable. She probably couldn't help herself." Lynette hooked her arm through his, unable to stop grinning and happy to see that Tom seemed to share the same affliction. She felt goofy and silly and stupidly in love.

"But you smell better. Plus you're cute when you drool."

"I don't drool."

"Tell that to my favorite pajama top."

Lynette slapped his arm playfully. "Why'd I miss you again?"

"Well, I can't be sure, but I heard a rumor that it's because you're crazy about me."

Across the terminal, she spotted the man she'd been talking to hugging his daughter. They made an odd pair—her in a suit and him in his too-short pants and suspenders—but there was something right about it at the same time that made her smile. "Yeah," she agreed, giving a little wave to the man before she turned to give Tom an unabashedly adoring look. "That must be it."


	3. June 29, 1996

**Disclaimer: **This is still not mine.

**A/n: **Thank you all so much for reviewing! I'm really glad you're enjoying this so much.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_June 29, 1996 – 7:06pm_

"Let's play a game."

Lynette looked up from her magazine, completely caught off guard and not sure how to react to Tom's statement. Part of her was so amused that she wanted to laugh out loud and part of her wanted to roll her eyes at his childishness. She settled for raising an eyebrow and said, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm bored."

"You have a newspaper and a book."

"I don't feel like reading. Come on. It could be fun."

Lynette sighed. "Are you going to keep going until I say yes?"

Tom grinned widely and leaned a little closer to her, almost as if he was confessing a secret. Even though he was still miles from being in her personal space, she felt slightly overwhelmed and it took everything in her power to not shy away from his gaze. "I can be infinitely more obnoxious than this," he taunted.

"Fine." She shut her magazine, pretending to be more annoyed than she actually was. They still had a two hour flight ahead of them and she wasn't completely averse to passing the time until they boarded doing something fun. "What did you have in mind?"

"Is there a closet nearby? I wouldn't mind brushing up on my kissing skills."

Lynette slapped his arm even as her mind stored away the mental image of being trapped in a small, dark closet with Tom for later contemplation. The crush she had on him was quickly becoming wildly inappropriate and harder and harder to hide; it didn't help that Tom loved to constantly toe the line with innuendo and flirting. But nothing was going to happen; he had a girlfriend; they worked together; and that was as far as their relationship would ever go.

"Okay, okay," said Tom, throwing up his hands in surrender, completely unaware of her thoughts. "How about two truths and a lie?"

She snorted in a very unladylike way. "I haven't played that since summer camp."

"Well I'm not playing truth or dare."

"Of course not. That's a game that's only fun in the bedroom."

Tom's eyes and smile widened simultaneously and Lynette couldn't help but feel a little thrill of victory. If he was going to dish it out, he had to take it as well. And if she was honest, the idea that he might be compiling his own fantasy was just as satisfying. It made their non-affair seem less unrequited. "It's fine," she amended. "Let's just play your game."

"Okay. I'll go first." Tom rubbed his hands together with all the delight of a twelve-year-old. He looked preposterous—absolutely adorable, but preposterous all the same. "In high school someone dared me to chug a gallon of milk and I accepted and then ended up puking in the middle of the cafeteria. I've never been out of the country. When I was a kid I used to watch _General Hospital_ with my mom every day."

"Oh…my God…" said Lynette, unable to stifle her laughter. "I honestly don't know which of those I want to be the lie."

"Ha ha ha."

She giggled. "All right. I'm going to say the lie is that you've never been out of the country."

Loudly enough to attract stares from some of the people nearby, Tom made a sound like a buzzer. "Sorry, that's incorrect. I'll have you know that I have never once used my passport."

"Ah-ha."

"Never even been to Canada."

"That's kind of pathetic. So which is the lie?"

"I'm sorry to say that it's _General Hospital_."

Lynette pulled a face of disgust. "Why would you ever accept that dare?"

"I was a teenage boy."

"Of course. The ultimate recipe for stupidity."

Tom smiled, turning a bit in his seat so he was facing her directly. Unconsciously, Lynette mirrored his body language, brushing her hair behind her ears as she did so. "Your turn," he said.

"I know. Give me a second." Lynette folded her legs up, not caring if she looked silly; it seemed appropriate given the maturity level of the game they were playing. Still, it was harder than she'd figured to come up with three good ideas. She desperately wanted to stump him; the only way she could think of winning a game that didn't really have a victor.

"Hurry up."

"Shh!"

There was a second of quiet and then Tom reached out and poked her shoulder with one finger. She scowled at him, but he continued to slowly and deliberately prod her, bothering her immensely without saying a word. His persistence was astonishing.

"Okay!" she finally burst out, slapping his hand away. "I'm ready." She straightened her posture and smiled. "When I was a kid I wanted to be a flight attendant when I grew-up. I minored in creative writing as an undergrad. I hate beer."

"The beer one."

"What?" she asked, honestly dismayed that he'd guessed correctly. "Yes. How did you know?"

"You were drinking beer the other night."

"What? When did you see me drinking beer?"

The back of Tom's neck flushed ever so slightly—something she wouldn't have even noticed if he hadn't run his hand over it self-consciously—and he fidgeted for a moment. "Oh, well, I…saw you out the other night at Barney's. I was there too."

"Why didn't you say hello?"

"You were with people. Some…guy." The words came out more bitterly than Lynette thought he meant them to, and she was honestly surprised by his jealousy. His flirting had seemed natural, not intentional, and the idea that he might have any sort of interest in her that wasn't in jest was shocking. Mentally, she shook herself; she was reading way too much into a simple comment. Still, she couldn't help but admit, "I was out with my sister and brother-in-law."

"Oh," said Tom sheepishly. "Right."

Diplomatically, Lynette glossed over the moment without another word. There was no reason to rock the boat over one slip of the tongue. "It's your turn."

Tom nodded. "I played the tuba. I once had an imaginary friend named Quackers. I never learned how to ride a bike."

"You had an imaginary friend named Quackers?" asked Lynette with a huge grin. "Little Tommy Scavo and Quackers? Was he a duck?"

"Yes he was a duck," Tom snapped. "Wait! You didn't guess the lie!"

"Oh, it's the bike. Without a doubt."

"Yeah."

"My turn." Lynette nodded cheerfully, more than ready to one-up him this time. "Okay. I never had to wear braces. I have never broken a bone. My first job was handing out leaflets for a neighborhood bar."

"I have to hope that it's the last one."

"Nope. That one's true."

"Do I want to know why?"

"No," said Lynette quickly, trying to keep her tone light and disinterested. Said bar had been her mother's favorite haunting ground back in the day and Lynette had developed a rapport with the owner that had eventually landed her her first job. But that wasn't a fact that she really wanted to advertise.

"Then the braces."

"Wrong again. Never had braces, but I have broken several bones in my life."

"Oh yeah? Which ones?"

"Right arm and left pointer finger," she said, holding up the latter and purposely ignoring the thought that neither of those injuries had been the result of natural childhood scrapes. Though it was strange, she realized, that she had unintentionally brought up two dismal parts of her youth that she had never discussed with anyone else in even the vaguest terms before now. Distracted by this bizarre revelation, Lynette barely remembered that she wasn't alone until she felt Tom's right hand close over hers as his left pointer finger ran gently over the finger she still had extended.

"That must have hurt," he said quietly.

She nodded. His hands were soft and warm against hers and the sensation sent a wicked thrill up her spine. The entire moment was improper and stupid and foolish, but it felt like years since she had felt this excited over such a simple touch. Slowly, Tom shifted so their fingers were laced together and then lowered their joined hands—as if on any planet it was natural for them to be sitting there holding hands. Against her better judgment, she didn't pull away and just said, "Your turn."

For a split second, a look of indecision flashed in Tom's eyes, but then it was gone and replaced by something much scarier. There was a tenderness in their depths that Lynette had never seen before and they held her gaze like a magnet. Quietly, Tom said, "My name is Tom Scavo. I hate pizza. I really want to kiss you right now."

Lynette swallowed hard, suddenly finding it impossible to breath. He'd just blatantly crossed the line they'd drawn weeks ago and she knew that he was waiting for her to do the same. It would be so easy; he'd given her the perfect opportunity.

And the truth was that she really wanted to kiss him too.

"I think—"

"Flight 117 to Fairview, now boarding! Flight 117 to Fairview!"

As though she'd been doused with a bucket of icy water, Lynette drew her hand away from Tom's and abruptly stood up. "That's us," she said shakily.

Tom gave her a wounded look, but then nodded. "Yeah," he agreed sadly, standing and slinging his carry-on over his shoulder. He suddenly felt miles away from her, completely unattainable again, and Lynette was torn between regret and relief. The moment was now nothing more than a lost kiss; ultimately that had to be for the best.


	4. May 28, 2007

**Disclaimer: **I make no claim to any of this.

**A/n: **The timeline of this one might seem a little off compared to the show, but I always thought that season two (including the six month jump between seasons) took place over two years instead of one.

Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! It's greatly appreciated.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_May 28, 2007_ – _7:42pm_

Lynette slammed the trunk of her car shut exasperatedly. The weekend had been unbearably long—Tom's parents had come to visit and, for the first time, meet Kayla—and it had been three days of awkward conversation and tense looks. Neither Rodney nor Allison had taken the news of their new granddaughter well, and Tom had begged her to act as a go-between so he could avoid a confrontation this weekend. He'd taken it so far as to drag her to the airport with him to drop them off and Lynette was a little annoyed. All she wanted to do was take a long bath and go to sleep before she went back to work tomorrow. She didn't think that was asking too much.

Sighing, she locked the car and started into the airport after her husband and his mother, but without warning, Rodney grabbed her by the elbow, gently but firmly keeping her in place. "Hey! Hang on a sec!" he said. Lynette threw Tom a worried glance, but her father-in-law immediately stifled any argument by saying, "I'm sure you have your marching orders too, but mine are to let Allie have a few minutes alone with the kid and since I have to spend the next few hours in tight quarters with her, I think I win."

"Rodney…"

"Fine. Don't buy that? Well then put yourself in Allison's shoes for a minute. What would you say if twenty years from now one of your boys called you up and announced out of the blue that he had an illegitimate child he just found out about? Wouldn't you want the chance to talk to him?"

Lynette paused, surprised by the legitimacy of the argument. "Okay," she said. "Point taken. I'll throw him to the lions."

"Good. Then that gives us a couple minutes to talk."

With a rather sardonic look, Lynette sagged back against the car and crossed her arms. She probably appeared akin to a petulant child, but half the reason she'd agreed to run interference for Tom this weekend was to avoid this particular conversation. "Did Allison put you up to this too?" she asked.

"No. This is all coming from me." Rodney scratched the back of his neck a little self-consciously, a gesture she'd seen from Tom on more than one occasion. "Look, Lynette, I don't want to overstep my boundaries, but you're like a daughter to me. And I'm thinking no one, not even my son, has bothered to ask you how you're doing with all this."

"I'm fine," Lynette lied instinctively. They were the two words she repeated on a daily basis even though she knew just how much the strain of the past four months showed: in the dark circles under her eyes; in her sighs; in her general unhappiness. The only person who seemed oblivious to it was Tom, who was so buried in his own problems that he couldn't begin to see anyone else's. But she hadn't really discussed any of this with anyone, not even her friends or her sisters; she didn't plan to start with Tom's father.

"I've heard that lie enough times to recognize it for what it is."

"What do you want me to say, Rodney? You met Norah." That very well could have been the understatement of the century. In some perverted form of bonding, Norah had practically been all over Rodney, flirting shamelessly and actually having the guile to call him "Dad" at one point. Lynette shrugged and added, "I think you can guess what the past few months have been like."

Rodney gave her a soft, understanding smile. "She doesn't hold a candle to you, Lynette. And trust me, Tom knows it."

Lynette bit her lip for a moment, desperately fighting the urge to cry. Tom had offered plenty of reassurances and promises that nothing had ever happened between him and Norah in Atlantic City and Lynette had chosen to believe him. But that didn't eliminate the pain she felt every time she saw him with Norah and Kayla—sharing a bond that Lynette could never truly be a part of. It felt like something had been stolen from her; some special, personal union that had previously only belonged to her and Tom was gone forever and there was nothing Lynette could do to change that.

Rodney seemed to sense that she was about to lose it and he reached out a hand to reassuringly rub her arm. Lynette managed to give him a tight smile in response. "He loves you, sweetie. That might be the most important thing."

Unable to speak, Lynette just nodded. Rodney was right, in his own way; Lynette didn't think that she or Tom would still be there if they weren't in love. But she was slowly beginning to think that sometimes love wasn't enough.

"Aw, it's gonna be okay, kiddo. Tom is going to come to his senses sooner or later. Trust me," said Rodney, wrapping a companionable arm around her shoulders and tugging her forward. The gesture was unexpected, but welcome; it was nice just to hear someone acknowledge that she wasn't entirely crazy. "Now come on. Let's go make sure Allison hasn't killed Tom."

* * *

Tom was a decent fifty feet into the airport before he noticed that Lynette and his father weren't behind him. He glanced at his mother in a slight panic, but she continued to calmly walk. It was fairly absurd that a forty-year-old man would be nervous about being in trouble with his mommy, but Tom had spent four months exaggerating his parents' horror in his mind. On no planet was his mother happy that he'd had a child out of wedlock. He'd been waiting for the anvil to hit him all weekend and just when he thought he'd successfully avoided it, his mother found a way to smack him right over the head.

"Uh, we lost Dad," he said, going for innocent but coming off rather guilty. "Maybe I should go back and—"

His mother stopped abruptly and turned to face him with a formidable glare that made Tom blanch. "Thomas Ryan Scavo," she snapped, "what in the world are you doing?"

"Going to look for Dad?"

"Don't be smart."

Tom groaned. "Come on, Mom. Don't do this. We've had a nice weekend."

"No. It was an awkward, terrible weekend. God, that _woman_…"

"Norah—"

"Is a lunatic. What were you ever doing with her, Tom? You ruined your whole life for a pair of cheap breasts."

Bristling at the insult, Tom crossed his arms and glowered at his mother. As much as he loved her, she was completely overstepping her boundaries. "I did not ruin my life," he said sourly.

"You let yourself have one stupid night of pleasure and now you're paying for it in the worst way imaginable."

"That's a bit of a stretch."

"Tom!"

With a mollifying sigh, Tom forced a neutral expression onto his face. His mother was an indomitable force; when she had something to say there wasn't any reasoning with her. Much like taking medicine, it was best to just face up to it and get it over with. He gave a slight nod of acquiescence and his mother took a deep breath. "You need to wake up and understand what is happening. That woman is up to something. No one just decides one day that their child needs a father and suddenly contacts him after twelve years."

"Norah isn't a normal woman."

"Exactly my point. She's manipulative. And if you're not careful, she's going to cost you everything that matters most to you."

Tom swallowed a backlash of nausea. "Lynette and I are fine," he said weakly. The truth of the matter was that things had been tense lately. He was still out of work; Norah was around all the time; it felt like they were readjusting their entire lives. And he knew that it wasn't good for his marriage by any means, but they just needed time. Everything would get back to normal.

"Marriage is between two people. Don't expect me to analyze yours. But I will tell you this much, Tom: trust is easy to lose, but sometimes impossible to get back. And you are not helping yourself at all if you're not putting a majority of your time and effort into regaining Lynette's trust."

"She trusts me, Mom."

"Or she wants to."

The distinction was slight, but Tom had to admit that it was the truth. He had crushed Lynette in a way that he had never wanted to; it had been a selfish, desperate moment of weakness when he'd been so afraid that the truth would cost him everything that he forgot how detrimental a lie would be. But there was no way to know if things would still be as bad as they were now if he had been up front at the beginning.

Apparently realizing that she'd said something that had gotten through, his mother patted his cheek and said gently, "Honey, you can't sacrifice your family. You'll regret it the rest of your life."

"Kayla is my daughter."

"You know it's not that simple, Tom. At some point, you might have to choose. And you can't honestly tell me that you would throw away the past eleven years for a child you barely know."

Tom bypassed his annoyance and chose to concentrate on his mother's intentions, as misplaced as they might have been. With a small smile, he leaned down to give her a hug. "I don't think I'll have to choose, Mom. But thanks."

From behind, Tom heard a small chuckle and then his father said, "Aw, see, everything's fine." Tom pulled back from the hug, smiling as his mother rolled her eyes, and then he turned to face his father and Lynette. As always, his father looked completely at ease, but Lynette just gave him a wary smile that Tom returned with slightly more confidence.

"Well," said his dad, clapping his hands and breaking the tension that hung over the group. "We need to get going. And you kids should get home."

Tom nodded and handed the bag on his shoulder to his dad as Lynette gave his mom a quick hug. He thought he heard his mother whisper something that sounded like, "Hang in there," but he couldn't be sure. For once his father did exactly the right thing by not saying anything and a moment later he had a firm grasp on his mother's elbow and was pulling her away. Tom and Lynette stood quietly and watched until they were out of sight, and, without much thought, he reached out and took Lynette's hand.

"I wish we could just get on a plane and fly somewhere," she said absently.

"The kids might miss us."

"Eh."

Tom smiled and impulsively kissed the top of Lynette's head. She gave him a quick flash of a smile for his trouble, but he could still see the same unhappiness in her eyes that had been present for weeks now. He sighed sadly. "Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go home."


	5. September 19, 2003

**Disclaimer: **This definitely still isn't mine.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_September 19, 2003 – 6:42am_

"'Zeus' sister and wife.'"

With her head still sleepily perched on Tom's shoulder, Lynette yawned and spoke simultaneously, making her answer incomprehensible. Tom shook his head, amused, and after a second she repeated, "Hera."

Tom obediently wrote in the answer on his crossword puzzle and then impulsively turned to kiss the top of Lynette's head. They'd gotten up at four that morning to get ready to leave and Lynette hadn't managed to wake up yet. As usual, Tom planned to pass out as soon as they were in the air; he'd learned long ago that it was the most painless way to pass the time. "You sleepy, honey?" he asked with just a hint of humor in his tone. Lynette didn't seem to pick up on his teasing, however.

"Mm-hmm," she said. "Baby was up all night kicking. Again."

Tom smiled into her hair, abandoning his newspaper on the chair next to him. "You know what could solve that?" he said mischievously. "Sex."

"You'd say sex would solve world hunger if you thought I would fall for it."

"Says the woman who practically assaulted me when I got home from work the other night."

"Don't pretend you don't love the second trimester."

"Oh I do. And I love that we're going to be squirreled away in a hotel for the next few days without the boys. So what do you say we ditch the wedding and spend the day having sex and enjoying the advantage of room service?"

Jostling him from his rather comfortable resting place against her head, Lynette sat up and gave him a disapproving look he was well-acquainted with; that didn't make it any more welcome, though. "Tom, it's your cousin's wedding. We have to go."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Actually, we don't. We have the perfect excuse!" He rubbed his hand in circles over her baby bump and nodded encouragingly. The argument was useless, of course; he'd already protested this little jaunt to Phoenix several times and Lynette had staunchly refused to give in. He didn't see why she wanted spend hours on a plane when she was six months pregnant, but Lynette loved to be an enigma at times. It was part of her charm.

"Did you ever think this might be fun?"

"Fun?"

"A weekend away from the kids...We can dance…There'll be a little romance…"

"All I'm looking forward to is the part where I get to undress you with my teeth."

Lynette grinned. "Oh, trust me. I'm looking forward to that too."

"Oh really?" Tom leaned in to kiss her cheek and then slowly worked his way down to her neck, shivering when her hand traipsed over the back of his neck. "Come on, baby," he murmured. "Let's skip it and just go have some fun."

Instantly, Tom realized he'd gone too far. Lynette sighed and pulled back from him, any playfulness gone from her demeanor. In fact, she looked positively weepy now. Tom silently cursed his inability to ever remember how her moods shifted when she was pregnant—after so much practice he would have thought he'd have gotten the hang of not putting his foot in his mouth. But apparently he never learned.

"Can we only have fun if we're having sex?" she asked before Tom could try to smooth over his mistake. "Is that what our relationship has been reduced to?"

"No! Of course not!"

"I've really been looking forward to this. One more chance to be alone together before the baby is born. You're traveling all the time and babysitters don't just grow on trees and all I want is a little bit of fun before we have four kids to completely run us into the ground. Is that too much to ask?"

Tom gaped at her for a moment, startled by the fact that she was nearly crying in public, and trying to bridge the gap of her version of reality to his. As far as he had been aware they had plenty of time together. Sure, maybe a lot of it was in the house—it was hard to get out sometimes—and maybe he had been traveling a lot lately and maybe they hadn't been on a trip together in years, but…

Tom sighed. He really didn't have a leg to stand on.

"You're right," he admitted. He reached out and began to run a soothing hand up and down her arm, grateful when she didn't slap it away. "I'm sorry."

Lynette sniffled and then leaned forward, burying her head in his chest. "I'm completely crazy," she moaned.

"No, no, no. You're not. You're tired and you're pregnant and you're completely right. That's a lethal combination." Tom pulled back a little and Lynette lifted her head, allowing him to put his hands on her cheeks and give her a reassuring smile. "We're going to have a great time."

"Yeah?"

"Oh I promise."

"Okay." Lynette tilted her head up and kissed him soundly.


	6. January 27, 1998

**Disclaimer: **This is definitely still not mine.

**A/n: **Thank you all for the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying this so much.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_January 27, 1998 – 9:07pm_

Lynette settled a hand low on her hugely pregnant stomach, trying her best to hurry after her husband but barely succeeding in staying upright in her current state. After months of Tom being glued to her side whenever they went anywhere together, it was an abrupt, if understandable, change. "Tom!" she huffed, trying to keep any annoyance out of her voice. If he heard her, he didn't acknowledge it; he simply charged toward the counter, shifting impatiently when he got caught behind another man in line. The lull gave Lynette the chance to catch up, and she approached him and clamped an arm firmly on his. Finally, he looked at her, but the light of recognition was dim in his eyes.

"Tom," she said gently, using the calm sort of voice one might use when confronted with someone poised to jump off a roof. "Can we step back for a minute and think about this?"

"Think about what?"

Lynette bit back a sarcastic remark. She couldn't remember a time that she'd seen Tom look worse: his eyes were bloodshot with huge bags beneath them; his skin was wan and papery; he seemed to be on the verge of exhaustion. Considering that he'd been to seven cities in the past eleven days only to return home to this news, it wasn't entirely surprising. "Honey," she said with just the slightest lilt of condescension, "you just got home. I didn't meet you here just to have you turn around and get back on another plane."

Tom rubbed at his eyes and sighed loudly. "You just told me that my mom's in the hospital. That she had a heart attack and is in surgery. What do you expect me to do?"

"Let's go home. If you just let me sleep for a few hours—"

"No way!"

"—then we can get in the car and I'll drive us there."

Tom shook his head emphatically. "It's an eight hour drive."

"And a two hour plane ride and then nearly two hours of driving. Tom, you're exhausted. There is no way—"

"No. I need to go. I need to get there!"

Lynette lifted her hands and put them firmly on Tom's cheeks, holding him still so she could stare at him. Unfortunately, he seemed able to look everywhere but at her. "Tom, I know how you feel…"

"No you don't," he muttered. "You don't know anything about this."

The comment drifted by like a butterfly on a breeze. Of course she knew. Her mother had been sick once too and with it had come all the terrifying fears that as horrible as things were with her around, they might only get worse if she died. The unknown was always most terrifying. But Lynette didn't mention any of this; Tom didn't know what he was saying and she couldn't hold it against him now.

"I know you love your mom." She brushed her hand down his jaw-line and gingerly ran her thumb over the stubble on his chin. "And if I was allowed to, I would jump on that plane with you right now. But I can't. And sweetie, you're not doing anyone any good in the state you're in. So please. For me."

Tom took a deep breath that hitched on a sob and wordlessly leaned down to bury his head in her shoulder. She held him awkwardly, rubbing her hands up and down his back and pressing absentminded kisses into the side of his head. All the while she whispered soothing platitudes, meaningless words that were only good for the childlike lullabies they simulated.

Low, nearly incomprehensible, Tom choked out, "What if she dies?"

Lynette shut her eyes, nuzzling her nose against Tom's neck for a moment. He smelled like cinnamon—some odd scent of hotel soaps and shampoos. It was unfamiliar and discomforting. She frowned and said softly, "She won't."

"How do you know?" Tom pulled back and finally looked at her. His eyes were teary and unclear, but they finally seemed focused on her. She'd never seen him appear so broken: like a weary child who could be swayed to put blind faith into someone. That was what he needed now, even if it might turn out to be untrue in the end.

"Because," she said slowly, taking Tom's hand and settling it on her stomach, "there's no way your mother would go anywhere before meeting her grandchildren."

Tom chuckled halfheartedly, nearly more of a sob than a laugh, but nodded and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. "Okay," he murmured.

Lynette smiled gently. "Okay."


	7. August 3, 1996

**Disclaimer: **Nothing has changed.

**A/n: **Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. I hope this chapter lives up to the others.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_August 3, 1996 – 12:19pm_

Lynette was fairly certain that to every person standing around baggage claim waiting for their loved ones she looked completely bonkers. For one thing, she was holding two cups of coffee (which had seemed like a good idea until the plane was delayed and now the coffee was stone cold and there was no place to throw it away). For another, she kept turning to leave only to talk herself back into sticking it out. She must have walked in and out six times now and people were beginning to give her strange looks. Normally she wouldn't have cared, but today it only added to her anxiety.

"I get home around eleven on Saturday," Tom had told her on the phone Thursday night. His voice had been low and rough and sexy and she should have known then that anything she thought or said had been the direct result of his ability to make her want him just from the way he spoke. He might as well have been talking about ripping off her panties for how hot and bothered she'd been by his tone of voice. "You want to meet up for dinner?"

"Why don't you just come over? I'll cook."

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure. Plus my kitchen has the added bonus of being bedroom adjacent."

"That's a very good point. Especially since by dinner I really meant sex."

The conversation had taken a decidedly dirtier tone from that point and by the time they'd hung up she'd been certain that it would be a great surprise to pick him up at the airport Saturday morning. As if any good idea was ever conceived in a post-orgasmic haze. Yet here she was, now firmly grounded in reality and realizing that she had absolutely no idea if they were at this point in their relationship.

They'd been together for a month now. Kind of. A month if she counted from the first time they'd kissed even though it had been another two weeks after that before they went on their first date and another few days after that that he'd broken up with his girlfriend. She was beginning to think it didn't matter; a month wasn't much better than two weeks for this kind of intimacy. This certainly seemed like the type of thing that could send him running; it was the type of thing that could send her running if the situation was reversed. But maybe he wouldn't read that much into it. Maybe he'd just see it as a sweet gesture and nothing more.

_Or maybe he'll see it as much, much more than a sweet gesture, but not be freaked out and not run away. Maybe he'll take it as a sign that we're ready for more…_

And that was what she was actually dreading the most. She wasn't the type of woman who fell this hard for a guy this fast; she wasn't the type who fantasized about a wedding and kids within a couple weeks of dating; she wasn't the type who wanted forever after a few fantastic rolls in the hay. That was the fantasy of someone completely out of touch with reality—love stories didn't happen that way in real life.

Yes, she should definitely leave.

Decisive this time—though she'd felt decisive before only to change her mind—she turned to flee only to realize her timing couldn't have been worse. Grumpy, tired people who had endured the red eye were flooding toward baggage claim even as she wanted to leave; the chance that she could successfully weave through them without seeing Tom…

"Lynette?"

Yeah, basically impossible.

"Hey!" he called, rushing toward her with a grin that she nervously, if honestly, returned. He reached her and immediately bent to give her a long and lazy kiss and then a couple of swifter pecks before he pulled back. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh…Just waiting for someone."

"Someone wouldn't happen to get one of those cups of coffee, would he?"

She shrugged and handed it over, laughing as he took a large sip and promptly made a truly grotesque face. "Jeez," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why did you let me drink that?"

"Just to see you make that face."

"Now see, that's why I'm dating you. Because you're just so sweet."

Lynette smiled, feeling slightly foolish. All the worrying and here was Tom just being Tom. Simple, straightforward, sweet Tom. She raised her hand to caress his cheek and sighed, "I really love you."

She froze. _Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no._

Feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, Lynette dipped her head in an attempt to brush off what she'd inadvertently blurted out, but Tom took a firm grasp of her chin and forced her to look up at him. "I love you too," he said. The words sent a blossom of warmth through her entire body and without meaning to she grinned rather sappily up at him. Apparently it was a shared affliction because he was giving her the same dopey look. "Even," he added slowly, "if you did let me drink that terrible, terrible coffee."

Lynette lay her hands on his chest and bit her lip. "I could make that up to you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. But I think we need to go somewhere a little more private."

Tom's eyes widened and she grinned, glad that she had the same power over him that he had over her. It made everything between them much better. "I'll get my bag," he said, bending and pressing his lips to hers. "Don't move."

Lynette nodded. She knew without a doubt she wasn't going anywhere.


	8. March 14, 2023

**Disclaimer: **So not mine.

**A/n: **Just a little something to help me get through the last couple days until the premiere. Thank you all so much for the great feedback on the last chapter!

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

By **Ryeloza**

_March 14, 2023 – 9:33am_

"Hey." Lynette came up behind Tom, nudging his arm with her shoulder, but didn't get more than a cursory glance as he took her proffered cup of coffee. He sipped it stonily and continued to stare across the terminal at their oldest daughter, who was currently caught up in a very dramatic goodbye with her current boyfriend. Teasingly, Lynette raised her own coffee cup to her lips and murmured, "I don't think the glare is working, sweetie." She took a sip to hide her smile as Tom briefly turned his frown her way.

"You're not funny."

"I have my moments."

Tom seemed to struggle for a minute—perhaps to not roll his eyes, an act that always grated on her last nerve—and said, "Well this isn't one of them. They've been at this for a half an hour now. And all we've gotten is a cursory wave."

"I think that was a signal to stop staring and go away. Besides, you're exaggerating. It's only been ten minutes."

"Why are you so calm about this? You're supposed to be the one freaking out!"

"I had to get the coffee."

Losing his cool in a way she rarely saw from him, Tom practically barked her name. "Lynette!"

She raised an eyebrow and firmly stepped in front of her husband, forcing him to direct his complete attention to her. He did so with a somewhat guilty look in his eyes. "Okay, what is going on with you?" she asked quietly. "You have been on this kid's case since we met him. I've never seen you act like this before."

"Yeah right," snarked Tom. "I've never liked any of her boyfriends."

"That is such a lie." It was, mostly. Tom had certainly had a firmer eye on both of Penny's high school boyfriends than he had on any of the boys' girlfriends over the years, but his rapport had always been friendly with both Hector and then Pete. The moment they had met Jeremy, though, Tom's demeanor had been icy at best—a fact that wasn't lost on Penny even though she was now living five hundred miles from home. Since Christmas, Tom's conversations with Penny had been strained at best. She'd really assumed this would all blow over, one way or another, but her concern was beginning to escalate. "Tom," she snapped sternly. "You have got to talk to me. What is your problem?"

"Nothing." She gave him a look and he sighed. "You told me this was just a rebound."

"So it's a little more serious. It's not like they're getting married."

"Yeah, but…" Tom's voice dropped to an almost inaudible level and he ducked his head slightly, closing what personal space remained between them. "Look, I kind of…caught them."

Lynette suppressed a chuckle, but couldn't quite keep the laughter out of her voice as she stage whispered, "Doing…?"

Tom blew out a frustrated sigh. "They weren't…It wasn't…It was after…"

"After?"

"They were in bed together."

"Oh." Lynette frowned, still matching Tom's embarrassed whisper, though she wasn't sure why. "When was this?"

"What do you mean, "When was this?'" Tom snapped. He glared at her with an expression torn between horror and curiosity. "What does that matter? And why aren't you surprised by this? Did you know?"

"Well, no…Kind of…" Lynette shrugged. "We had a talk over the summer. She thought she was ready and we discussed it, but nothing was set in stone. But, yeah, I took her to the gynecologist and got her on the pill."

"Oh my God."

"Oh don't even start with me. You made sure the boys had access to condoms the second they started talking about sex and they were certainly younger than Penny. It's not like I'm happy about it, but I'm not going to stick my head in the sand and pretend it's not happening either. God, get a grip."

Tom shook his head and backed away from her, flopping into one of the nearby seats. His posture was almost defeated—slouched down, head hung, hands limp. It was almost enough to make her pity him. With a small sigh she walked over and took hold of his chin, forcing him to straighten up so she could sit down on his lap. She gave him a fond smile and ran her hand back and forth over the back of his neck. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry. You're right."

"I know."

"It's just…She's my little girl."

"I know that too. And I know that this is hard for you, but she is growing up fast. We can't do anything to stop that." She leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently. "You need to get past this."

"I will. Maybe I already am. I just don't like that kid. There is something…sinister about him."

Unable to help herself, Lynette burst into laughter. There was something completely absurd about describing their daughter's short, floppy-haired, guitar playing, art major boyfriend as sinister. Dopey, perhaps, a little naïve, probably, but nowhere near sinister. "I do love you," she said, kissing him again. "And I love how much you love our kids."

"Hmm," Tom sighed against her mouth. It was as much of an agreement as she'd get. After a second, he pulled away from her and gave a little nod, prompting Lynette to turn her head. Penny stood nearby, finally done saying goodbye to Jeremy, and she was staring at them rather abashedly. "What are you guys doing?" she hissed. "We're in public."

Lynette suppressed a smile and slid off of Tom's lap, letting him stand up and hug Penny first. All of the fight was gone from him, and he was nothing but warmth and love now. She only loved him all the more for it—because he always had been and always would be a fantastic father. And she really couldn't ask for more.


	9. October 17, 1999

**Disclaimer: **This still isn't mine.

**A/n: ** Well, I spent fourteen hours yesterday traveling through airports, so it seemed appropriate to add to this story. Thank you all for the feedback on the last chapter! I hope you like this one just as much.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

By **Ryeloza**

_October 17, 1999 – 2:19pm_

Tom was pretty sure that Lynette was going to kill him. All she'd wanted was for him bring her sisters to the airport and to find a babysitter for the boys, and he'd failed on both accounts. Lucy and Lydia, unsurprisingly, had better things to do than deal with their mother, and no one had been eager to take the kids off his hands for the afternoon. So here he was, with their six-week-old strapped to his chest and the twins squirming in their stroller, waiting for Lynette to get to baggage claim and murder him on the spot.

Life definitely wasn't fair sometimes.

"Mommy isn't going to like this," said Tom to the twins. They were becoming fidgety, as always, unhappy to be confined for any length of time. Parker, fortunately, was asleep, his little head weighing heavily against Tom's chest, but it was a small blessing. So were the pointedly adorable but useless looks he was getting from the other people nearby. "She's not going to like this at all."

Porter giggled and Preston slapped his hands over his eyes, straining against the safety harness. Tom was getting the distinct impression they didn't care about his plight. Of course, what should he expect from twenty month olds? "Eventually you guys are going to realize we need to stick together," he said, running a hand over Parker's back. "We may outnumber Mommy four to one, but you'll find out soon that that doesn't mean much."

"Momma," chirped Preston. He clapped his hands together, and Tom shook his head.

"Yeah, sure, worry about her. I'm only your dad."

Neither of the twins had a response to that.

"Okay, here's the deal, boys," Tom went on. He was fairly certain that spending the past three days interacting with only his kids had made him a little loopy, but that didn't deter him in the slightest. "Mommy had to fly to Vegas to find Grandma and drag her home, and she really didn't want you guys with me when I picked her up. You know that Grandma hasn't even met you guys yet. Well Mommy wants to keep it that way."

Porter threw a Cheerio and Tom sighed. "You really don't care, do you?" Even if it wasn't a rhetorical question, Tom wouldn't have gotten a legitimate answer, and he wearily sighed and leaned back in his seat. Lynette's relationship with her mother had, if possible, gotten even more tumultuous over the past two years. Right before the twins were born, they'd had a huge fight and spent ten months not speaking to one another. It wasn't until after a shaky incident with Lydia last Christmas that they'd warily patched things up, but every time they'd talked since, the conversation had resulted in an argument. Then suddenly, four days ago, there'd been a late night, drunken phone call and the next thing Tom knew, Lynette had jumped on a plane to Las Vegas and left him alone with the kids. The entire scenario was practically guaranteed not to end well; Tom had the feeling that he had significantly upped those odds by not forcing someone to babysit.

"Dada!" Preston shrieked. He kicked his feet wildly, prompting Porter to follow suit, but Tom just shut his eyes and let out a low groan. This day couldn't be over soon enough.

There was a low rumble of people arriving at baggage claim, but Tom didn't open his eyes until he heard Stella's voice ring out through the terminal. Her whining was one of the most unwelcome sounds he'd ever heard. "We'd save a hell of a lot of time if you hadn't made me check my bag!" she complained loudly as Tom sat up a little straighter and scanned the crowd for his wife. He spotted Stella first, elbowing her way past an elderly Chinese couple, but he already had a sheepishly apologetic look on his face by the time he made eye contact with Lynette. She paused for a second at the sight of him with the kids, shook her head, and then firmly took Stella by the elbow and led her over while Tom stood up.

"Tom!" said Stella as they approached; she gave Tom an appraising once-over. To his surprise, she didn't seem to notice any of the kids—not even the baby. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"Hey, Stella." Tom glanced at Lynette warily, but leaned over and gave her a quick kiss anyway. "Hi, honey."

"What's going on?" asked Lynette pointedly. The twins vocally fought for her attention, though, and for a moment she was blessedly distracted by bending down to pepper their faces with kisses. Maybe the boys weren't completely against him after all. "Hi!" she cooed cheerfully. "How're my boys? Huh? How are you?"

"These are your kids, Lynette?" asked Stella, as though Tom might have hijacked some random children on his way there. "What's with the red hair?"

With a glare that could have frozen fire, Lynette straightened up and shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. "Go get your bag, Mom. I need to talk to Tom for a few minutes."

Stella smirked—obviously not oblivious to the fact that he was in trouble—and headed over to the conveyor belt. The most Tom managed was a small smile before Lynette snapped, "You brought the kids?"

"I didn't have much of a choice. You called me at the last minute to ask me to pick you up. I couldn't find anyone to watch them."

"Guess what? Susan Mayer can't say no to anyone. Next time, find her."

"Noted," said Tom wryly. He wasn't going to point out that Susan's house was still a construction disaster zone. "How did it go?"

"Oh, wonderfully. It took me a day to find her, another to sober her up, and then a third to convince her to come home. Where the hell are my sisters?"

"They couldn't come. Don't worry. You and I can get your mother home. That's thirty minutes tops."

Lynette sighed and agitatedly rubbed a hand against her forehead. "My grandmother died," she said. "That's what prompted this little trip. Instead of calling us or doing anything about it, she ran off to Vegas and had a bender."

"Oh my God." Tom gaped at her, surprised yet again by Stella's outlandish behavior. Every time it seemed she couldn't top herself, she did. "Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out and pulling her into an awkward, one-armed hug around the baby.

"No. I can't believe her! What kind of person finds her mother dead and just runs off without telling anyone?"

Tom opened and shut his mouth, speechless. He had the sudden, horrifying image of Stella finding her mother's corpse still upright in her chair and just turning around and leaving. "I…It…" he stuttered helplessly.

"I called the morgue from the hotel. They took care of the body, but this whole thing is a mess. We're going to have to make funeral arrangements." She pulled back and shook her head. "I can't believe my sisters aren't here."

"What are we going to do with your mother?"

Lynette shrugged, throwing a glance over to Stella. "Take her to my aunt's house. I don't trust her to be alone right now. God, I can't believe this is happening."

"Hey," said Tom. He gave her a soft smile, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing her gently. "It's going to be okay."

"Is it?" Lynette let out a shaky breath. "I'm not so sure."

Honestly, Tom wasn't so sure either, but there was nothing else to say. As usual, Stella had managed to make the whole world fall apart around her, and Lynette was left to pick up the pieces.

Life definitely wasn't fair sometimes.


	10. July 31, 2014

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, not mine, not mine!

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_July 31, 2014 – 1:16pm_

Tom could feel his bag slipping on his shoulder, but he kept his hand firmly entwined with his wife's, genuinely fearful that if he let her go she'd slip away from him. After the second time she'd turned to head back to the car, he'd taken a hold of her; he didn't doubt that if he released her that she would make another attempt. In fact, he was pretty sure they wouldn't be safe until they were actually in the air.

"You know, I think I forgot to turn off the oven," she babbled above the hustle and bustle of the airport. "Do you remember? I don't think I did."

"You didn't use the oven this morning."

"I did before you were up. I made biscuits. I probably forgot to turn it off."

Tom sighed, trying and failing to keep the impatience out of his voice. "The kids can turn off the oven if it's on. Which it's not."

"Yeah. You're right. I know you're right."

"Thank you."

They reached security and Tom was happy to see that the line wasn't long. As soon as they paused, though, Lynette tried to pull her hand from his and Tom instantly tightened his hold. "Sweetie," she said, slightly exasperated, "I know you're in second honeymoon mode already, but I need my hand back."

"What?"

"We need tickets. And ID. Remember?"

"Oh." Tom grinned a little sheepishly, letting her go and reaching back to pull out his wallet. "Right."

Fortunately, Lynette didn't take the opportunity to bolt. She just opened her purse, rooting around for what she needed, and then let out a soft curse. "Damn it."

"What? You didn't forget the tickets…"

"No, they're right here," she said. She pulled them out and shoved them into his hands, and then pulled out another slip of paper that she waved in his face. "But I forgot to leave the kids our contact info."

"Oh. Well—"

"What if there's an emergency and our cell phones aren't working? What if one of them gets food poisoning? Or the twins crash the car? They've only been driving for five months, God only knows what will happen. Or—"

"Lynette, stop! I'm begging you."

She raised an eyebrow and nodded her head toward the woman working at security; she was giving them a terribly dirty look. Tom couldn't understand why; he'd barely raised his voice. "Hi," he said with a false cheerfulness. He scrambled to hand Lynette her ticket and then gave his over to the woman. "First time leaving the kids home alone. She's a little nervous."

"Hey," said Lynette indignantly, "I love our children, but they are not the most responsible kids in the world. We are leaving two sixteen-year-old boys in charge. Do you know how much that worries me? You should know. She knows."

Tom glanced at the security woman, who didn't look any friendlier than she had before. He was surprised when she nodded and said, "I know."

"Okay, fine," said Tom, stepping toward the conveyor belt and stacking his belongings in one of the trays. Lynette followed him, pulling off her sandals as she went and tossing them on top of his stuff. "They're sixteen-year-old boys. That doesn't mean they're going to burn down the house. And you know the neighbors are going to keep an eye on them."

Lynette blew out a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Okay, you're right."

"I am."

"But—"

Tom groaned. Without thinking, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Lynette, dipping her back and kissing her firmly. Mostly he just wanted to shut her up, but he didn't protest when she responded vigorously to the display of affection. After a minute, he pulled back and let her go, not looking at her as he stepped toward the body scanner. He already had his shoes back on when she rejoined him moments later, and he finally let himself glance at her again. There was a hint of a smile on her face, and she was visibly relaxed.

"Are you ready for this vacation now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because I have to tell you, I don't really want to think about the kids this week."

Lynette leaned up to give him a kiss that promised a lot more than she could give him in the airport. "Me either," she agreed softly, giving Tom a look that made him want to drag her into the nearest bathroom and have his way with her. He had to settle for simply holding her hand again, and imagining the hundred different ways he could ravish her once they got to the hotel.

As if she could read his thoughts, Lynette gave him a saucy grin. "Let's go have some fun."


	11. August 8, 2016

**Disclaimer: **Sooo not mine.

**A/n: **I've been trying to catch up on some of the fics I haven't updated in awhile, and an idea for this one finally popped into my head. I think this fic might be winding to a close, but there are probably at least a couple chapters left. I hope you all enjoy! Please let me know what you think.

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_Monday, August 8, 2016 – 8:53pm_

Lynette was fussing.

It was a side of her that Tom hadn't seen often over the years, but at the moment she was practically smothering Preston—talking a mile a minute, asking questions like she was reading off of a checklist, straightening the collar of his shirt. Tom watched the whole thing with some kind of strange fascination, just shy of wondering if some other woman had taken over his wife's body. Lynette had never been the type of mother to overreact, causing some commotion over every bumped elbow or scraped knee. She took things in stride, and it was probably a good part of the reason why their kids were so independent.

Right now, he never would have believed that.

"Are you sure you have your passport?"

"Yeah, Mom. Do you need to see it again?"

"No. Just make sure you have it with you at all times. And don't leave it just lying around. Especially in those hostels."

"I know."

"And call us if you need anything. I stuck some pre-paid phone cards in your bag just in case something happens to your phone. Do you have enough money? Oh! Tickets!"

Preston glanced at Tom, clearly desperate for him to intervene, but Tom felt reluctant to put an end to the interrogation. As soon as he did, his son was going to head through security and they wouldn't see him again for months. He wasn't sure if he was any more ready to deal with that reality than Lynette was.

"I have my tickets, Mom. My wallet, money, credit card. I have everything I need. And if I'm going to catch my flight, I kind of have to go."

"Oh! You know what you need," said Lynette, sounding rather as if she hadn't heard a word Preston had said. "One of those neck pillows. It's such a long flight."

"I don't—"

"Just wait here. I'll be right back."

"Mom—"

For the first time in nearly fifteen minutes, Tom moved from where he leaned against an ATM, reaching out and catching Preston by the arm. "Just let her go," he said in a low voice.

"She's acting crazy."

"Yeah," agreed Tom. "But you're leaving for the next six months, so I think she has the right to act like your mom for a few more minutes."

"She's not acting like my mom."

"No, she's acting like _my_ mom, but that's her prerogative right now." Tom smiled tightly, but Preston just rolled his eyes. The familiarity of the gesture caught him off guard, and a lump rose in his throat. Anxiously, he swallowed and squeezed Preston's shoulder. "When she gets back, just smile and thank her, and then I promise, I'll get her to leave."

"You swear."

"Well I'll do my best. It is your mom."

Preston scowled. "What is going on with her?"

"I told you—"

"No. Not just today. She's been acting weird for over a week now. Yesterday she threw up right in the middle of making dinner."

Tom sighed, wondering on a scale of one to a hundred, how close he'd come to death if he told Preston that his mother was pregnant. She wasn't eager to tell anyone, not even the kids, but it didn't seem like the type of news they should spring to him on the phone while he was thousands of miles away. "Look," said Tom, cautiously decided, "your mom and I found out that she's pregnant."

"What?"

"She's pregnant. Due in April."

"No…"

"Yeah. And you can't say anything. Not to your mom, especially not to your brothers and sister. Your mom doesn't want anyone to know for a couple months yet."

Preston shook his head, apparently as stunned as Tom had been when he'd heard. He was beginning to wonder if anyone in the family was going to take this with anything less than pure shock and denial. "You okay?" he asked, trying to prod Preston into some sort of coherent response.

"Yeah. Sure. I just can't believe you're going to have another kid. That's so…weird."

Tom wondered if this was the time to drop the twins bombshell as well, but at that moment, Lynette came back toward them, neck pillow in hand. Simultaneously, he and Preston pasted on identical, strained smiles, and Lynette quirked an eyebrow at them curiously. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Dad said you're pregnant."

"Tom!"

Lynette slapped his shoulder as Tom cuffed the back of Preston's head. He had the fleeting thought that they probably resembled the three stooges, and shook it away like an annoying gnat. This was a moment where focus would be a plus. "He's leaving for Europe. Don't you think he should know?"

She sighed conciliatorily, though Tom certainly couldn't take that as agreement. "Please don't tell your siblings."

"Yeah, Dad covered that already."

"Oh, Dad's on top of things, huh?"

"Come on, Mom," said Preston, reaching out and taking the pillow. "It's not a big deal. And I'll be back before the baby is born."

Without warning, Lynette's eyes filled with tears, and she pulled Preston down for a hug. "You're really leaving," she said, her voice muffled by a sob. Preston glanced at him helplessly, and Tom finally felt a tug of pity.

"Come on, sweetie," he said, gently wrapping an arm around Lynette and tugging her away from their son. "He really needs to get going."

"I'm not ready."

"Mom," said Preston, a hint of whining creeping into his tone. Tom shook his head sharply, and Preston sighed. "I'll call when I land, okay?"

Lynette nodded, too choked up to speak, and Tom leaned forward to give Preston a one-armed hug. His own eyes were suspiciously damp now, but in an effort not to completely freak his son out, he managed to keep himself in check.

"Good luck with…all that," said Preston quietly. In spite of everything, Tom chuckled. This was the tip of the iceberg as far as he was concerned, but Preston had no idea. Slowly, he pulled back, keeping a firm hold of Lynette.

"Be safe," she said as Preston picked up his bag. "Call us."

"I will."

"Don't do anything stupid," added Tom.

Preston smirked, backing away as though he was afraid that they wouldn't stop until he was actually out of sight. "Yeah," he said. "Same to you."

"We love you."

"Love you too." He gave a little wave, turned, and took off toward security. For several minutes, Tom and Lynette stood there, not moving or speaking, even once their son was out of sight. It felt surreal to think that he was actually gone, and Tom couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until all of their kids were gone.

Lynette sniffled, turning and burying her face in his chest. Tom hugged her tightly and rocked her a little, a few of his own tears finally spilling over and running down into her hair. "He's going to be okay," he said.

"I know."

Tom kissed the top of her head reassuringly, even knowing that nothing was going to make this better. Whatever happened, this was one of those goodbyes that would stick with them forever.


	12. November 30, 2002

**Disclaimer: **This isn't mine. Never was and never will be.

**A/n: **Last chapter. Thank you so much to every person who has read, and especially to those of you who have reviewed. I guarantee that this fic wouldn't have gone as far as it did without your feedback and support. If you have the time, please let me know how this last chapter turned out; I will really appreciate it.

Enjoy!

**Midnight (And Other Times) at the Airport**

A story by **Ryeloza**

_November 30, 2002 – 1:21am_

Lynette shifted her grip on the handle of her suitcase from one hand to the other, flexing her fingers in an effort to lessen the tautness of her muscles. For the past hour, she'd been pacing the airport with her son in a desperate attempt to lull Parker to sleep. She supposed she should consider it a blessing that the twins had passed out on the plane, but she was exhausted and annoyed, and she selfishly wished that all three kids had stayed asleep. Unfortunately, Parker was getting over an ear infection, and he'd cried during takeoff and landing; as a result, he was wide awake as they disembarked. The best solution she'd come up with was plopping her three-year-old onto her suitcase as some kind of makeshift stroller and walking him around the airport—five minutes ago, finally, he'd drifted off again.

She was more than ready to do the same.

Despite her fatigue, as Lynette spotted the gate, she actually sped up, maneuvering through the crowd of tired, cranky people until she reached her husband. As always, their family seemed to spread uncontrollably—, luggage everywhere; Tom slouched in a chair with Porter conked out against him; Preston curled up in a ball next to his brother. Lynette flashed Tom a brief smile as she approached, and then bent to scoop up Parker, groaning as she gently hoisted him into her arms and collapsed in the empty seat next to Preston. She barely had a second to settle in before Tom spoke.

"No announcement yet."

Lynette shifted; Parker's head rested heavily on her chest, his breathing long and deep. "Considering it just took me an hour to calm Parker down, I'm not that upset."

"I feel like we're never going to get home," he groaned, leaning back, shutting his eyes and sighing. Privately, Lynette agreed. This was the second flight today that had been delayed; this trip was becoming interminable torture.

"Well," she said, trying to find some sort of levity in the situation (it was difficult), "flying into the Snow Belt might have been a mistake. If your grandparents had just moved to Florida or something…"

Chuckling, Tom's head lulled to the side, and he gave her a soft smile. Neither of them had been particularly enthused to pack up three small boys and take off for Minnesota, but Tom's parents had been insistent that they go. His grandparents were celebrating their seventieth anniversary, and the party invitations had extended to every living family member in Tom's family. Lynette wasn't going to deny that it was remarkable, but that hadn't meant she'd been looking forward to the occasion either. For one thing, Tom's grandmother had never liked her; for another, traveling at Thanksgiving was a nightmare; worst of all, towing along the boys was a recipe for disaster. Parker getting sick had just been the icing on top of the cake. In all, it had been an exhausting four days, and now they were stuck in Chicago in the middle of the night with no end to this trip in sight.

Lynette kissed the top of Parker's head, briefly resting her hand against his forehead to make sure his mild fever hadn't spiked. "He okay?" asked Tom, and Lynette looked over and gave a slight nod.

"He needs a good night's sleep. We all do."

"Mmm."

"Are you going to take Monday off?"

"I can't. I have that meeting, remember?"

"Right." For a moment, Lynette avoided Tom's eyes, her gaze sweeping over all three of her babies with the most ambivalent tug of love and frustration. When she first found out she was going to become a mother, she never could have predicted how trying, exhausting and overwhelming it would be; so far from perfect that sometimes she felt like she'd go crazy. Now she feared that feeling was only going to intensify, a fact Tom neither wanted to acknowledge nor completely understood. Somehow that was forgivable and completely trying at the same time.

"Lynette?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not having second thoughts about me taking this promotion, are you?"

In spite of herself, Lynette smiled, mostly because it was ridiculous how well he could read her sometimes. "Not second thoughts," she said quietly, resting her cheek against the top of Parker's head as she looked back at him. "The same thoughts I've been having since you told me."

"We could really use the money. You know—"

"Tom," she interrupted, "I know. We talked about all of it. We've already agreed. You don't need to keep trying to convince me."

"I don't think you're actually convinced."

Lynette started to sigh, but it turned into a yawn halfway through, swallowing her next words until she wasn't sure they were comprehensible. "Sweetie, you're going to be traveling three times as much. Of course I'm not convinced."

"You know I'm not excited about that part of it either. I hate being away from you and the kids."

"I know."

"I'd much rather be at home."

Softening, Lynette nodded. "I know."

Slowly, Tom maneuvered around Porter to stretch his arm out toward her; she met him halfway to take his hand. In an ideal world, Tom's job wouldn't require him to travel at all; he wouldn't have to sacrifice time with the kids; she wouldn't have to be on her own. If Lynette knew anything, though, it was that life was never bliss. There was always some problem or obstacle, but she'd spent her whole life overcoming the odds, and this would just be another occasion to prove herself. It was the only way she could look at the situation without breaking down.

"You better get used to nights like this," she said, pushing her feelings aside as though they didn't underscore her words. Judging by the way he was looking at her, Tom knew anyway; but then, he always knew. "Late nights at the airport."

"I'll survive," he said quietly. "I'm coming home to you."

Lynette squeezed his hand and nodded. It was a promise to her, and in all the years she'd known him, he'd never broken a promise. Somehow that was everything and nothing all at once, and the best she could do was return the sentiment. In this moment, that was all they had.

"I'll be waiting."


End file.
